John Crichton Explains It All
by ALC Punk
Summary: Multiple canons here, as John Crichton attempts to explain to Sam Anders about warrior women and their angst.


Disclaimer: Not mine.  
Rating: eh... 13ish Pairing warnings (some are just implied): Aeryn Sun/John Crichton, Chiana/D'Argo, Domino/Cable, Jean Grey/Scott Summers, Rogue/Gambit, Kitty Pryde/Pete Wisdom, Major Motoko/Batou, Kara Thrace/Sam Anders, Zoe/Wash, Liz Weir/John Sheppard, Delenn/John Sheridan, Teyla/Ronon, Ishta/Teal'c, Lorna Dane/Alex Summers, Gamorah/Adama Warlock, Buffy/Riley, Buffy/Spike, Samantha/Riley, Susan Ivanova/Marcus Cole, Dualla/Lee, Midnighter/Apollo, Boomer/Helo, Cally/Chief, Tulip/Jesse, Faye/Spike, and Samantha Carter/Kara Thrace. Het, slash and femslash implied.  
Notes: This was started on Thursday, before the episode aired on Friday. Surprisingly, it still fits. 

**_John Crichton Explains It All_** by ALC Punk!

Ideally, Sam Anders would have been curled up with his wife in the bunk they'd been allotted on Galactica. Sadly, that wasn't the case. Right at the moment, he was standing in a room filled with men (and a few women) he didn't know.

"Sit down, boy."

Sam Anders glared at the dark-haired man, "I'm not--"

"Sit. Down." The man snapped. He snapped his shades off his face and glared back.

For some reason, Sam sat.

"Now," the man gestured to himself and the others already seated or lounging, or standing, "My name is John Crichton. The one with the funky hair is D, the one with dinosaurs is Wash. The rest you'll meet as the night goes on, I imagine."

"Excuse me, but why am I here?"

Crichton looked at him and sighed. "Son, you're married to a warrior woman."

Well, that was one way of describing Kara.

"And the rest of us, well, we're kinda in the same boat." John gestured with his sunglasses, "This here's kind of an informal gathering of manly-men--and women--who need help. It's a pool of knowledge and experience gleaned through many a painful," he winced, "experience."

"Indeed."

"Teal'c here, he can tell you a lot about warrior women--how they fight, how they do politics. He can also tell you how they bitch-slap you with logic when you least expect it."

"Um. Ok." Sam looked at them, wondering if they were crazy. "But why now? I've been married to Kara for over a year."

"It's because of the angst, kid." Gesturing expansively, Crichton continued, "Warrior women are frelling special. Unfortunately, so's their angst."

"Flonq, yes."

Several other people echoed the silver-haired man with the mug in his hand. Sam figured if he squinted, he could ignore the... strange metal on the man's arm.

"Oh, come on, man, they're not that bad."

"Riley, you have a very well-adjusted wife. Now shut the hell up."

"But, Buffy--"

"You only dated her. And she only kind of counts."

"Kind of?" The kid looked like he was a soldier of some sort.

"Don't make me tell Sam on you, boy," John snapped.

Riley shut the hell up, subsiding with his Pabst Light.

"Now," Crichton continued, turning back to Sam, "Your wife has had an experience that she doesn't want to deal with."

"Kara doesn't--"

"--deal with things, she just moves on. Correct."

Sam glared at the man, "So, great. You know that. Now what?"

"Your wife is going to angst, Sam. She's going to angst and suffer and push people away and screw things over-"

"Hey!" Really, that was a bit much.

"Your wife is a Warrior Woman, Sam. And as such, as I said, her Emo is Special. And all Warrior Women angst."

"Zoe doesn't," Wash objected, then he added, "Okay, she does. But not often. And when she does?" He blew out a breath. "Let's just say I find myself talking to Simon way too often then."

"Hey, man, Teyla doesn't angst."

"Shut up, Ronon, you're only here because you bring beer."

"I believe," interrupted a bearded man, "that the Russians have the market on angst, generally. There's nothing like a good Russian sulk, as Susan used to say."

"We know, Marcus," John rolled his eyes. "And you're dead because you were too chicken to--"

"Aren't we getting a little off the subject, here?" asked a different dark-haired man laconically. "The subject is this, uh, what'd you say, 'Warrior Women' thing? Man, I'm not really sure why I'm here. Elizabeth's just a diplomat, she doesn't--"

"Son." A man with dark blond hair patted him on the shoulder, "You should have learned by now that diplomatic women are the most frightening of all."

"Ok, yeah, I don't cross her anymore since--"

"Sheppard. Sheridan." Crichton interrupted them. "If you two please could focus? We're trying to instruct Samuel here in the best way to deal with the fact that his wife is about to spaz out on him."

"Kara is not going to spaz out."

Several pitying looks were tossed his way, and Crichton sighed, "Oh, man. Look, let's just say you need to be ready to give her space."

"A lot of space. Like, a whole planet's-worth of space," Wash said. He gestured with his hands, arms spreading wide. "You'll need to give her so much space you might find yourself wondering if you're the only one left in that corner of the galaxy. And, lemme tell you, space? Is vast, it's infinite, it's--"

A ball of paper sailed through the air and hit Wash, "Silence, man." Instructed the darkly-handsome man who'd thrown it. He was dressed in oddly archaic clothing.

"Oh, I'd like to see you explain the whole distance thing." Wash informed him, sounding miffed, "Mr. James bloody Cobham."

"It's very easy," replied James, tone amused, "as Richard once explained. Susan believes herself to be akin to tigers. As such, she needs rather a large amount of space. And if she doesn't get it, people get mauled."

"And tigers eat meat," said Crichton, tone slightly bemused. "That explains my next warning. Sam, your wife is probably going to act out. Get into fights, become an assassin--"

"Sleep with your son," inserted D'Argo, voice dry.

"Or your best friend."

"Run away for a year," said a tall, well-built man. He sighed, then smiled. "But it all works out in the end."

"Ain't nothin' can top decidin' y're too old for her," scowled a man with an accent that reminded Sam of Dr. Baltar's.

"D'Argo, Wisdom and Apollo--"

"Apollo?" Sam blinked at the tall man who'd been indicated, "But you're not--"

"Not that Apollo. Sheesh. Lee Adama couldn't be here. Something about sleeping with his wife." Crichton waved a hand, "The boys have excellent points. Be on the look-out for any of that sort of behavior, and be ready for it to hurt like hell."

"Or, she might decide to commit suicide, and then come back from the dead," a man with red-tinted lenses said into the thoughtful silence. He heaved a sigh. "And then there's the problem of cloning--"

"NO CLONES, Summers!" Crichton yelped. "We already had this discussion, remember? And you promised--"

"Shut the flonq up about my mother, Scott." The large man with the half-metal body snapped. His tone was grumpy. He gripped his beer and sunk lower in his chair.

Scott glared at the man, but subsided. "Sorry. No clones."

"Clones are bad, m'kay?"

"There are many copies?" Sam asked mildly, almost amused now. "We've had that problem with the cylons, too."

"Don't I know it, Sam." from the back, Helo raised his mug of beer. "I'll drink to it, in fact."

"Hey, man. You're here, too?"

"Charter member. Ever since Kobol. Chief's around somewhere, too. Cally gets really scary when she's pissed."

Sam felt a bit better about it, knowing that Chief and Helo might be around. "Well, never piss off a pregnant woman, man. Didn't they teach you that?"

"Hey! We're straying from the subject, gentlemen." Crichton said, obviously trying to stem the conversation.

"This subject is dumb," grumbled another large man. His grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and Sam couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with his eyes.

"Come now, Batou," replied a golden-skinned man, "This is all very much an instructive tool."

"Thank you, Adam," said Crichton. He considered, then looked around, "I suppose I should open the floor for anymore advice or comments?"

A man wearing an odd white collar looked up from his bottle of ale. "It's always your fault."

"Right, Jesse." another blonde, this one with spiked hair nodded emphatically, "And don't forget the 'I'm just using you for sex and to feel something' crap."

"Least you can have sex, mon ami," grumbled a man with red eyes.

"Angsty sex is sometimes the best," mused another blond man. He half-grinned, "Of course, sex when one, or both, of you is possessed is a bit strange."

"You've got some odd kicks t'you, Summers."

"LeBeau, they should'a just left you in Antarctica."

"They did."

Crichton harrumphed. "Anyone else have anything of note to add?"

"We definitely need more beer," called a man who, oddly, looked almost exactly like Crichton. The other two men at the table with him nodded in agreement.

"Anything pertinent to our discussion, Mitchell."

Mitchell grinned, "It's beer, man. It's worthy of discussion. Just ask Spike, here."

The laconic man across from him didn't even raise a hand as he grunted.

Sam was beginning to feel that his brain was coming unhinged. Too many Johns, too many Spikes, too much beer. Or maybe not enough beer. "Can I have a beer?"

A blonde woman stood up and walked over, "Sure." She smirked as she held out a bottle.

Sam grabbed it, "Thanks."

The woman tilted her head and looked at him, "I guess I see what Kara likes about you."

"Uh..."

"Sam Carter." Her smirk deepened, "My Kara isn't quite as... angsty as yours. But she's close."

"Your Kara?" He blinked.

The other Sam nodded, "In my universe, well, let's just say, things are a bit different."

Blinking, Sam opened the bottle and took a very large drink. In one universe, Kara was involved with a woman?

"Alternate universe, man," Crichton explained as Sam wandered back to her seat opposite metal-man.

"Right," Sam replied.

"Anyone else?" Crichton looked around at the group of them, noting that most were more interested in their alcohol. A few had begun playing cards, throwing pretzels, or talking. "Okay, I guess we're done here."

Sam drank from his beer again, feeling a little more relaxed. "So, you're all involved with women like Kara?"

"There are very few women like Kara," said a voice that Sam recognized. It was rather a bit disapproving. Sam stiffened and stared at the man he'd missed. Admiral Adama simply stared back.

"Um. Yes, sir. Right."

"Ok!" Crichton clapped his hands, "To sum up, remember, when dealing with your wife, lover, significant other, that she, or he--" John added with a glance at Apollo, "will need time."

"Or," said Apollo brightly, "just to kill a lot of people. That sometimes works really well for him."

"Or that," agreed Crichton. He sighed. "Anyone got beer? I'm parched."

-f

_deep breath _Cast list.

John Crichton and D'Argo are from Farscape.  
Wash (and Simon) are from Firefly.  
Teal'c, Mitchell, the unnamed Dr. Jackson and General Jack O'Neill and the Samantha Carter involved with Kara Thrace are from Stargate: SG-1 Cable (Nathan Dayspring), Pete Wisdom, Scott Summers, Remy LeBeau, Alex Summers, Adam Warlock belong to Marvel comics (X-Men and Cosmic Marvel)  
Riley and blond Spike belong to Buffy: the Vampire Slayer (Angel was being too Emo to make it)  
Ronon and John Sheppard belong to Stargate: Atlantis Marcus Cole and John Sheridan belong to Babylon 5 James Cobham (and his swiping of Susan's discussion with Richard regarding tigers) is from Freedom and Necessity by Steven Brust and Emma Bull Apollo (not Lee) is from Stormwatch Sam Anders, Helo, Chief, and Admiral Adama are from Battlestar Galactica.  
Batou is from Ghost in the Shell Jesse Custer (the man in the white collar) is from Preacher The laconic Spike is from Cowboy Bebop ...I think that's all of them.


End file.
